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Bx AMY PRENTICE 


^mi ^ittg'0 @.nitttdf ^torieo 

By AMY PRBNTICE 

Bunny Rabbit's Story 

. 30 Illustrations 

Billy Goat's Story 

. 32 Illustrations 

Brown Owl's Story . 

, 3 1 Illustrations 

CroaKy Frog's Story . 

. 28 Illustrations 

FrisKy Squirrel's Story 

. 30 Illustrations 

Gray Goose's Story . 

. 32 Illustrations 

MicKie MonKey's Story 

. 35 Illustrations 

Houser Cat's Story . 

. 35 Illustrations 

Plodding Turtle’s Story 

30 Illustrations 

QuacKy DucK's Story 

. 34 Illustrations 

SpecKled Hen's Story 

. 28 Illustrations 

Towser Dog's Story 

. 32 Illustrations 

All Uniform With This Volume 

Price, Fifty Cents Per Copy 

A. I,. BURT 

COMPANY 

PUBLlSHeRS 

NEW YORK 



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Brother Gray Goose flapped his wings in Mr. Fox’s face, 
and knocked him over backward into the pond. 

Quacky Duck Story. 




QUACKY DUCKS STORY 

By AMY prentice; 

M 



WitH THirty-One Illustrations 
and a Frontispiece in Colors 
BY J. WATSON DAVIS 


A. L. BURT COMPANY, Publishers 
NEW YORK ^ V? 



LIBRARY of CONGRESS 
Two CoDies Received 

FEB 15 1906 



Copyright 1906 

By A. I,. BURT COMPANY 


Quacky Duck’s Story 
By Amy Prentice 



QUACKY DUGK’S STORY. 

By AMY PRENTICE. 

It was just after the last rain storm, when your 
Aunt Amy went down to the pond, eager to see 
some of her bird or animal friends, after having 



Mrs. Quacky Duck. 


been shut in the house three days by the stormy 
weather. 


5 


6 (Siuacfe? 2)ucfe'6 Stor?^ 

The ground was very wet ; even Mr. Towser 
Dog seemed more inclined to remain indoors than 
venture out where he would get his fur coat soaked 
with water, and your Aunt Amy had begun to 
despair of seeing any one who would entertain 
her, when old Mrs. Quacky Duck came waddling 
along, running her broad bill into this puddle or 
that as she passed, as if finding there something 
dainty in the way of food. 

Now although Quacky Duck was a great friend 
of Mamma Speckle’s, your Aunt Amy had never 
met her thus alone, and was somewhat surprised 
when she asked : 

“ I suppose you are out looking for some of the 
birds that live on this farm, ain’t you ? ” 

“I was hoping I might meet some one who 
cared to spend an afternoon with me,” your Aunt 
Amy replied, and Quacky Duck said, after having 
gobbled up a fat worm that was wriggling through 
the mud : 

“Then perhaps you would be willing to get 
along with me, for there are not many of the farm 
people out to-day, except the members of my 
family.” 

As a matter of course your Aunt Amy told her 
that she would be well pleased to spend a certain 


iSiuacI^^ Qtov^. 7 

length of time in her company, and asked why it 
was that she was looking sad, for it is always 
supposed that a duck is very happy in wet weather. 

“ Well, to tell the truth,” Quacky Duck said as 
she oiled her tail feathers, “ I’m feeling sorry for 
old Mr. Drake, and yet I don’t know why I should, 
for it does really seem as if it was time for him to 
be roasted. 

THE END OF MR. DRAKE. 

“No, he is no relative of mine, although of 
course we have been good friends, because of 
living on the same farm. I must say that he 
hasn’t been setting a very good example to the 
young ducks here. He is too fond of dressing in 
his best clothes, and walking around with a cheap 
cigar in his bill, as if he hadn’t a care in the world 
except to show himself. 

“ I was standing out in the barn-yard a little 
while ago, talking with Mr. Turkey Gobbler, when 
along came that same Mr. Drake, dressed as fine 
as you please with a silk hat, and a bouquet in 
his button-hole, swaggering as if he owned the 
whole farm. 

“‘Hello, what’s the matter with you, old 


8 


©uach? WncWe 

Turk ? ’ he cried with that swagger of his which 
he seems to think proves that he has been around 
the world a good deal. ‘You don’t look as if you 
had a friend anywhere on the farm. Why can’t 
you have some style about you ? ’ 

“ ‘ I have heard bad news,’ Mr. Gobbler said, 
and any one but Mr. Drake would have had a 
suspicion of what was coming; but the foolish 
duck asked, as he putfed tobacco smoke in old 
Mr. Gobbler’s face : 

“ ‘ What is it you have heard that makes you 
look so down at the mouth ? ’ 

“ ‘ I heard Mr. Man say that they must have a 
fowl of some kind on the table next Sunday.’ 

“ ‘ And I suppose Mrs. Man thought they had 
better kill you, didn’t she ? ’ Mr. Drake asked as 
he pushed his hat over one ear. 

“ ‘ Yes, that was her idea,’ Mr. Gobbler said ; 
‘ but Mr. Man thought I wasn't fat enough, and 
so they decided to kill you. That’s what makes 
me sad.’ 

“ Mr Drake began to laugh ; but before he got 
his mouth fairly opened, Mr. Man came around 
the corner of the barn with a hatchet in his hand, 
and in about a minute there was no more Mr. 
Drake alive. 


9 


©uacft? 'BixcKe Stor^^ 

“ It is better, as I have said, for the young ducks 
around here that he has left us, because his 
example wasn’t a good one ; but at the same time, 
you can’t help feeling sorry when an old acquaint- 
ance goes so suddenly.” 



Mr. Drake Hears Bad News. 

“ Hasn’t Mr. Drake had a good influence over 
the ducks on this farm ? ” your Aunt Amy asked, 
and Quacky Duck replied quite sharply : 

“ As I look at it, he hasn’t. Until this year we 
never had so many saucy ducklings, and I cannot 
but think that it is because of the example he has 
set. 


10 


©uacft? 'BncKe Stor?. 


WHEN LITTLE DUCKY WAS VERY 
YOUNG. 

“ Only two or three days ago, before this last 
storm, a nest of ducklings was hatched out, and 
one of them acted for all the world as I have seen 
Mr. Drake. He put his head out of the shell, and 
there he sat, never trying to get one way or the 
other, and paying no attention when his brothers 
and sisters waddled away, ready and willing to 
earn their own living. 

“ ‘ Oh me, oh my, isn’t this nice to be able to 
look out and see all the sights ! ’ he said as he sat 
there, gazing around with his mouth wide open. 

“ Just then one of those pert spring chickens, 
such as you will find in every yard, came along, 
and said to him : 

“ ‘ It’s all very fine now while the sun is shin- 
ing ; but what will you do when it begins to rain ? 
The first day I came into this barn-yard I got so 
wet that I nearly had the pip.’ 

“ ‘ But I shan’t be so foolish as that,’ this very 
young duckling said, reminding me so much of 
Mr. Drake. ‘ I shall stay in the shell, and when 
it rains all I’ll have to do will be to pull my head 
down under cover.’ 


11 


©uacfti? 

Well, the duckling didn’t get out of the shell 
that day, and next morning a storm had set in. 
The foolish little fellow looked out, and laughed 
to think how wise he had been in refusing to leave 
the shell. Then he drew his head down, and sat 
there like the silly goose he was, until the shell 
was so full of water that he came very near being 
drowned, for where Mrs. Duck’s nest had been, 
was by this time a small pond. 



“ ‘ Help me ! Help me ! ’ he screamed, sticking 
his head up to look around for his mother, while 
she, who was paddling about with the others of 
the brood getting plenty of nice things to eat, 
cried to him : 

‘ Come out of your shell ! Come out ! Swim 
around with the rest of us ! ’ 


12 


©uach? Stor^* 

“ Of course the duckling had to do it, or drown ; 
but if you’ll believe me, he was so puffed up with 
the idea that he knew everything, it had never 
entered his head he might be able to swim, until 
he just had to, and no sooner had he learned what 
it was possible to do, than he said to his mother : 

‘‘ ‘ It’s a sh *me ' m didn’t'tel me about swim- 
ming, before this. It’s fine to sail around here in 
this way.’ 

“ ‘ Yesterday you believed you knew everything 
about this woH'^ his mother replied, ‘ and it would 
have been us iS for me to have tried to tell you 
anything. Now you have seen that there is plenty 
to be learned, don’t turn up your nose when those 
who should know best, offer advice.’ ” 

“ I can’t see why you blame Mr. Drake because 
the duckling was so foolish,” your Aunt Amy said 
when Quacky Duck ceased speaking, as if the 
story was at an end, and she replied sharply : 

“ I don’t say I really blame him ; but that duck- 
ling acted just as he always has, and it did really 
seem as if the old fellow’s example was being 
copied even by those who had just been hatched. 
Poor Mr. Drake ! Did any of the fowls or animals 
around here ever tell you about his doctoring little 
Tommy Grasshopper ? ” 


©uacft? 13 

THE GRASSHOPPER’S BAD HABIT. 


“I have never heard anything of the kind,” 
your Aunt Amy replied. “ Did he have many 
patients ? ” 

“ Tommy was the first and the last, so far as I 
know. Mr. Cro^^f made sorne^poetr^^ about it, and 
Mamma Speckle - gave me a <x)py of the verses. 
This is what they sound like : 

Little Tommy Grasshopper 
A naughty habit had : 

He’d chew all day and night tfee 
Tobacco good or bad. 

Doctor Duck heard of the case, 

And called his aid to lend. 

He said : “ I’ll surely cure you 
If fees you mean to spend.” 

The Hopper said he’d pay him, 

And Doctor said : “ All right ; 

We’ll start this very minute, 

I’ll cure your failing quite.” 

The Doctor changed his diet ; 

Said, “No potato vines, 

No green peas in the morning, 

No beets or melon rinds. 


14 


(Sluacft^ 3>ucft’s Stor?. 


“No cantaloupes or peaches, 
No plums or celery, 

No lima beans or parsnips ; 
They don’t with you agree. 



Dr. Drake’s Advice. 


“ I’ve brought this health food for you. 

Eat it alone for food. 

And I am sure tobacco 
Will never more taste good. 

“ It builds the nerves and tissues, 
Makes muscle by the pound — 

And for good health I think it’s 
The best thing' ever found.” 




Mr. Fox plays with the false face. Page 15. 

Quacky Duck, 









15 


(Siuacft? H)ucft’s Stor^. 

“ It looks like sawdust, Doctor ; 

I’ll eat it anyway.” 

Alas ! he ate and ate it, 

But choked to death, they say. 

‘‘ I should be very much surprised to find any 
one on this farm who hadn’t some of Mr. Crow’s 
poetry to repeat,” your Aunt Amy said with a 
smile, when Quacky Duck had come to the end of 
Hhe lines. 


ME. FOX’S EXPEEIMENT. 

“We are a good deal like old Mr. Fox, when he 
got the false face to play with.” 

“ I think that must be a new story,” your Aunt 
Amy said. “ I never heard anything of the kind.” 

“ It isn’t really a story ; but something that Mrs. 
Goose, who lives on the next farm, was telling me. 
Mrs. Goose saw Mr. Fox sitting in the shed, with 
a false face between his paws, and she said 
to him : 

“ ‘ I should think, Mr. Fox, that after all the 
trouble you have had with Mr. Man, you wouldn’t 
want anything around to remind you of him, 
except when it was absolutely necessary.’ 


16 


©uacfti? Qtov^. 

“ ‘ That’s where you are making a mistake, Mrs. 
Goose,’ Mr. Fox said very politely. ‘ I’ve had a 
great deal of trouble with Mr. Man, as you say, 
but have seen so much of him that I’m almost 
lonesome when he isn’t around. This false face 
not only reminds me of him ; but by keeping it 
before me, I shall always bear in mind that my 
life depends upon having one eye open all the time 
to guard against his surprising me.’ 

“ And so it is with us fowls, and the animals, 
too, for that matter, regarding Mr. Crow’s poetry. 
We have heard so much of it that we would be 
almost lonesome if one or another didn’t repeat it 
often, and we are very careful to hear each new 
piece he writes, so that we may guard against 
doing that which may give him a chance to say 
something disagreeable about us. It is a great 
pity all of us wasn’t as wise as Mr. Fox, for if we 
had been, Mr. Man would have two young ducks 
more than he has now.” 

A SILLY MOTHER. 

“ What do you mean by that ? ” your Aunt Amy 
asked, believing Quacky Duck had another story 
in mind. 


17 


©uacft? 'BncWe Qtov^. 

“ I was thinking of old Mrs. Pekin Duck, who 
was as silly a bird as I ever knew, and yet she 
thought there was no one on this farm who was 
so wise as she. There wouldn’t be time to tell all 
the foolish things she did, if I was to stay here 
until night ; but you shall hear how she killed her 
two babies, all that were left of as pretty a brood 
of fourteen as you ever saw. It seems that Mr. 
Man left a pail of green paint on the chopping- 
block one day, and old Mrs. Duck was waddling 
around with her children where she didn’t belong, 
when she spied it. Of course the first thing the 
silly bird did, was to jump on the block, and look 
into the pail ; then she made up her mind that the 
paint must be green grass chopped fine, and mixed 
as some kind of a new breakfast food. 

“ ‘ I have found a great prize here, my duck- 
lings,’ she said with that foolish grin of hers, 
which she always seemed to think made her look 
exceeding wise. ^You are to stand right there 
until I throw down a few mouthfuls. Don’t 
move ; but keep your mouths open until you get 
what I am going to give you.’ 

“ The poor little ducklings did as their mother 
told them, of course, and when old Mrs. Pekin 
Duck shoved her bill way down into the green 


18 


©uacft? 'BncKe Qtov^. 

paint, the stuff choked her so badly that she 
flapped her wings, tried to scream, and knocked 
the pail off the block right on the poor little babies, 
who were standing like statues as she had said. 



They were actually drowned in that green shower, 
and Mrs. Pekin Duck herself was so sick that it 
was fully three days before she could eat a morsel. 
When she did get better Mr. Man killed her, and 
carried her to market, for she wasn’t of any service 
to him on the farm.” 


19 


(Siuacfi? Duck's Stor?. 


“ How many babies have you got ? ” your Aunt 
Amy asked, and Quacky Duck shook her head 
sadly as she said : 



“ I did have eleven as pretty ducklings as you 
ever put your eyes on, and what do you suppose ? 
One morning they were all taken from me and 
put in a big box, which had slats on it so that 
you could see the poor things, but couldn’t get 
at them. 

‘‘ I knew they were going to be taken to market, 


20 


(Sluacfti? 2)uch'6 Stori?* 

and that didn’t make me feel so very badly, 
because it is in the natural course of events that 
we ducks shall be killed and roasted ; but what 
made me wretched, was that they should have 
been carried away by that foolish Mr. Pig, who 
thinks he is of wonderful importance on the farm 
since Mr. Man lets him drive Neddy, the donkey, 
in the two- wheeled cart. 

“ And you never saw them again ? ” your Aunt 
Amy asked. 

“ No,” Quacky Duck replied as she wiped her 
eye with the end of her wing. 


A GREAT TRAVELER. 

For a moment your Aunt Amy was afraid 
Quacky Duck’s grief would prevent her from 
telling any more stories ; but just at that moment 
a shrill “ Chip, chip, chip, chip,” from one of the 
branches overhead, caused her to look up suddenly, 
and, seeing there a chipmunk who was chattering 
so fast and furiously that it really seemed as if he 
was in danger of losing his tongue, Quacky Duck 
said, as if a sudden thought had come to her : 

“ It is astonishing how many airs and graces the 


21 


(Siuacft? 'BwcWb Stor?* 

chipmunks around this farm put on, since one of 
their family went for a sailor ! ” 

“ I never supposed a squirrel would willingly 
go near the water,” your Aunt Amy said in sur- 
prise. 

“Well, this one did, and I suppose the reason 
of it was that he was such a foolish fellow. Mr. 
Crow has written some poetry which tells the 
whole story. Wouldn’t you like me to repeat it? ” 
As a matter of course your Aunt Amy said she 
would, and Quacky Duck began : 

A chipmunk sat on a cedar tree, 

First on two feet, then on three, 

As he combed his beautiful tail. 

He watched the river down below 
As it hurried by with rapid flow. 

Till he longed for a bit of a sail. 

He hunted about for a minute or two. 

Till he found a chip which he thought would do. 
Then launched it on the tide. 

He leaped aboard his frail canoe. 

Which shot ahead, then faster flew. 

Though to stop it he vainly tried. 

But soon he grew to like the speed. 

And laughed for joy, with little heed 
To the distance he had come. 


22 


(Siuachi? I>ucft’0 Stor?. 

But now the night is settling down. 
He sees the lights of a busy town, 
And hears its distant hum. 



The Chipmunk Who Became a Sailor. 

Still through the dark he rushes by, 

The fields and houses faster fiy, 

Till he gains the open sea. 

And now he is rocked and tossed about, 

And very soon begins to find out 
How sick a chipmunk can be. 

After days and days of this wearisome life, 

He is thrown from his boat in the terrible strife 
Which the ocean has with the shore. 

And so he is dashed on the firm white sand. 
Where he lies at rest, till a friendly hand 
Lifts him to life once more. 


23 


(Sluacft? Ducft’0 Stor^. 

He sees a curious, chattering crowd, 

Who look at him, touch him, call aloud 
At the wonder dropped by the sea. 

They feed him, tend him with reverent care, 
And build him a temple rich and rare 
As a sacred place can be. 



The Sailor Arriving at Port. 


And so it came to pass, one day, 

As I watched the dark-skinned natives pray 
At a heathen Goddess’ shrine, 

I saw a strange and wonderful sight : 

A chipmunk frisking from height to height, 
Where golden offerings shine. 

“ Do you suppose that is a true story ? ” your 
Aunt Amy asked, and it really seemed as if 
Quacky Duck Avinked, before she replied : 


24 


(Siuacft? Duch'e 

“ Well, I wouldn’t like to say that it really was ; 
but I guess it is as true as most of the stories that 
are told around here.” 

“ The chipmunk must have been a very wise 
little animal to make the best of the odd situation 
in which he found himself,” your Aunt Amy sug- 
gested, and Quacky Duck replied : 


STRANGERS. 

“ Yes, he had a great deal more wit than Mr. 
Deer, who came around this farm three or four 
years ago, when I was hardly more than a duck- 
ling. No one ever found out how he happened to 
visit where he was an entire stranger. I was in 
the swamp one morning, where a herd of deer who 
live near-by were feeding, when the visitor came 
up, and he had his son with him. 

“ I must say that they were as nice, respectable 
looking animals as you could hope to see, and the 
father had the prettiest horns, I believe, that were 
ever on a deer’s head. Now if he had gone right 
up to the herd, and told them he had come to 
visit, or to live here, I am certain everything would 
have been all right ; but, instead, he stood some 



Mr. Deer and his son looking for trouble. Page 24. 

Quacky Duck, 





25 


©uacft? ©tor?* 

little distance away, striking the ground with his 
fore foot, as if expecting some one would try to 
pick a quarrel with him, and his son didn’t appear 
a bit more friendly. 

“ Of course no one could blame the deer who 
live near our farm for being suspicious, when this 
visitor stood ready for a fight, and because he held 
his peace, instead of explaining matters, they 
started in to drive him away. 

“ Dear me, dear me, how that deer did fight ! 
Why it seemed as if he was in a dozen places at 
the same time, he jumped around at such a rate, 
and the result was that Mr. Man, hearing the 
noise, came out with his gun. 

The next day they had venison for dinner at 
the farm-house, and I saw the skins of the father 
and son nailed up against the barn, all of which 
taught me, young though I was, that an animal, 
or a boy either, for that matter, must give a 
straight account of who or what he is, if he 
expects fair treatment. Even one who doesn’t 
really belong to the best society, can make a good 
position for himself, if he is respectful among 
strangers, and acts as if he was perfectly willing 
to answer any question concerning himself that 
might be asked. 


26 


(Sluach\> Stor?^ 


“ I remember a big blue-bottle fly who stayed 
around this farm all last summer, with never one 
of us troubling him, and why ? 

‘‘ When he first came he was as polite as ever 
any one could be ; took oif his hat when he was 
spoken to, and, without waiting to be questioned, 
declared that he was simply a wandering minstrel, 
who hoped to be allowed to spend a quiet vacation 
in the country. 

“ If he had shown himself ready for, and ex- 



pecting trouble, the same 
as old Mr. Deer did, there 
isn’t a bird or an animal 
on the place who wouldn’t 
have thought it his o]' her 
duty to make things dis- 
agreeable for him. Soft 
words, at the proper time, 
will accomplish very much 


A Wandering Minstrel. than harsh ones, as 

little Mrs. Mouse proved not two weeks ago. 

WHEN MKS. MOUSE ENTERTAINED 
MR. CAT. 

“ Is that a story ? ” your Aunt Amy asked, and 
Quacky Duck said with a laugh : 


27 


©uack? 2)ucft'6 Stori?^ 

“Yes, and I think it’s a right good one, too. 
Out in the barn there is a family of mice who are 
as quiet, well-behaved, pleasant neighbors as you 
could ask for, and Mrs. Mouse tries to be polite 
to every one. The other day she was sitting near 
the door, knitting some mittens for the children, 
and suddenly up popped Mr. Cat. 

“ It stands to reason that she was frightened ; 
but instead of screaming, or doing anything like 
that, she said, as if it pleased her wonderfully to 
see him : 

“ ‘ Good morning, Mr. Cat.’ 

“ ‘ Good morning, Mrs. Mouse. I think I will 
visit with you a little while.’ 

“ Now Mrs. Mouse knew that there wasn’t time 
for her to run away, and if she told Mr. Cat she 
didn’t want him around, he would jump on her 
before you could wink, so she said as sweet as 
apple sauce : 

“ ‘ I shall be very glad indeed to have you 
visit me, Mr. Cat ; but I must get this skein of 
yam wound, and if you’ll only take it on your 
paws a minute, it will be the greatest possible 
favor.’ 

“Well, that kind of pleased Mr. Cat, for 
although he intended to eat Mrs. Mouse right 


28 


©uach? IdncKe Stori?* 

away, he thought it wouldn’t do any harm to fool 
her a little, so he held the yarn on his paws. 

“ Mrs. Mouse took one end of the yarn in her 
mouth, and began running around and around Mr. 
Cat until he grew dizzy, and called out for her to 
stop a minute ; but she kept on going until he 
was all wound up in a ball, so tightly that he 
couldn’t even move his tail. 

“ Then Mrs. Mouse called in one of the neigh- 
bors, and the two sat down to dinner, while Mr. 

Cat begged and 
coaxed them to let 
him go free. 

“ However, after 
Mr. Cat promised 
that he would 
never again kill 
another mouse, 
they unwound the 
yarn from him, and 
it wasn’t more than 

Mrs. Mouse and Her Neighbor at Dinner. 

a week before Mrs. 
Man said she must get another cat, for it did seem 
to her as if Thomas had forgotten how to do his 
duty. 

“After that, I have heard it said, although I 



29 


<Siuachi 5 S>iicft’5 Storij. 

don’t know how true it may be, Mr. Thomas spent 
more than half his time with a bear family that 
live over yonder, under the big hill.” 

LITTLE NICODEMUS BROWN. 

“Are there bears living as near the farm as 
that?” your Aunt Amy asked in surprise, and 
Quacky Duck replied in a matter-of-fact tone : 

“Why certainly there are. Didn’t old Mr. 
Bear steal nearly all of Mr. Man’s geese last 
month? A family of bears that I know about, 
call themselves Brown, and they have a little boy 
whose name is Edwin Nicodemus ; but everybody 
calls him Nicky. He is a good-natured little fel- 
low, but Mr. Crow says he isn’t really bright. 
Perhaps you would like to hear some poetry Mr. 
Crow made about him ? ” 

Without waiting for a reply, Quacky Duck 
began to repeat the following : 

Of Edwin Nicodemus Brown, 

And how he’d trouble with his sums, 

To hear the tale may make you frown, 

But all right in the end it comes. 

A bonny, bright young bear was he, 

So blithe, so brisk, so sharp and quick j 


(Sluachi? Buck’s Stor^. 

I don’t believe that you could see 
Another bear so bright as Nick. 

But, I regret to say (and here 
It is that I’m afraid you’ll frown), 
He didn’t love his sums, I fear, 
Young Edwin Nicodemus Brown. 



Of course, he should have worked away 
Until he never got them wrong; 

But naughty Edwin, sad to say. 

Would go and fish the whole day long. 

Once, after he’d been out to play. 

His teacher looked him up and down, 
And then said, “ Now, what do you say 
That two and two make, Edwin Brown ? 


31 


(Siuacfti^ 2)uc{i's Stor^. 

Poor little Nicky hung his head, 

And then, as sure as I’m alive, 

He stammered, stuttered — then he said, 

“ Oh, please, sir, two and two make five ! ” 



“ Are you acquainted with this family of bears 
who call themselves Brown?” your Aunt Amy 
asked. 

“ No indeed, although I have seen Nicky, and I 
am told that they are very nice bears who wouldn’t 
harm a duck, no matter how hungry they might 
be ; but when it comes to that. I’d rather not give 
them the chance, for you never know what kind 
of trouble you may get into with strangers. I 
remember the story Mr. Crow tells about Mr. 


32 


©uach^ WncKe 

Crane and Mr. Wolf, and stay right here on the 
farm where Mr. Man and Mr. Towser can look 
after me. 


ME. CEANE PAYS OFF OLD SCOEES. 

“ I suppose you mean the old fable of the stork 
drawing the bone out of the wolfs mouth ? ” your 
Aunt Amy asked, and Quacky Duck really seemed 
quite excited, as she replied : 

“ Indeed I don’t mean anything of the kind. 
You won’t find an animal around this farm who 
believes any such silly story, as that a stork would 
be willing to do such a thing. Now we know of 
a Mr. Crane that paid Mr. Wolf back for murder- 
ing his brother, and it may be Mr. Man got the 
story mixed up. 

“ This is what 1 know to be true, and it was a 
crane that did it. Mr. Wolf went down to the 
edge of the pond two or three years ago, and 
found a young crane who had been wounded, so 
he set about deliberately and greedily to eat him. 

“ Now do you know, people say that ducks are 
terribly greedy, and I suppose some of us are ; but 
as a rule we are no worse than any other family, 



Mr. Crane takes revenge on Mr. Wolf for the death of his brother. 
Page 33 Quacky Duck, 


i 


1 








t 


9 




% 





I 


« . 

' ' 1 

' r 

^ t 

*9 j 

k « 

I 



I • ^ • 


I 


# 



4 


I 


< 


33 


(Siuach? 'BncKe Stor?^ 

and when I get through with this story, I’ll tell 
you something about greediness. 

“ Well, Mr. Wolf he gobbled up the wounded 
crane, trying to eat him bones, feathers and all, 
even to his long bill, and that got stuck in his 
throat. He was in terrible distress as you may 
fancy, and sat there howling and howling until 
the brother of the crane he had just eaten, came 
along, and asked him what the matter was. 

“ Mr. Wolf tried to lie out of it, saying that he 
had been eating a hawk; but Mr. Crane knew 
better than that, because somebody had told him 
all about it, and he said to Mr. Wolf: 

‘“If you have a mind to open your mouth. I’ll 
show you what I can do.’ 

“ You see, Mr. Crane didn’t promise to help Mr. 
Wolf. He just said he would show him what he 
could do, and so he did. Mr. Wolf opened his 
mouth the widest he knew how. Then Mr. Crane 
pulled his head way back, put all the force he 
could into the blow, and stuck his bill right down 
Mr. Wolf’s throat into his heart, killing him as 
dead as a door nail. 

“ It may be that Mr. Stork pulled a bone out 
of Mr. Wolf’s throat ; but I think Mr. Man has 
mixed the stories up, for I don’t believe any stork 
3 


34 (Siuacft? Stor?. 

would be so foolish. And now about those stories 
of greediness which I said you should hear : 

GEEEDY BEN. 

‘‘We had a duck hatched on this farm last 
year, who was the ugliest looking bird you ever 
laid eyes on, and just as greedy as he was ugly. 
He could eat anything from nails to Paris Green, 
and nothing ever seemed to hurt him. I have 
seen that duckling take into his little stomach as 
much as would make three hearty meals for me, 
and never have an ache or a pain afterwards. 

“ Now Mr. Man has got a boy whose name is 
Benny, and he’s almost as greedy as I have been 
telling about, so Mamma Speckle decided that the 
duckling ought to be called Benny, too, and that’s 
the name he went by till cheap watches killed 
him. 

“Yes, it does sound funny, I will admit; but 
that’s a fact, as I am going to tell you. Mr. Crow 
made some poetry about Benny Man, and he has 
promised to make some about Benny Duck ; but 
hasn’t done it yet. 

“I guess I’ll repeat the poetry about Benny 
Man first ; 


35 


<Siuachi2 Duck’s Stor^. 

Benny was greedy, I’m grieved to say, 

Of all good things that came \n his way. 

The truth to tell you, he wanted more 
Than ever he needed, ten times o’er. 

And he wheedled, and whined, and coaxed, and cried, 
And often snatched at the thing denied. 

He went to visit at grandpa’s farm, 

And all things there had a novel charm ; 

But the cream he drank, and the eggs he sucked, 

And the rooster’s gayest plumes he plucked, 

Till all who met him were shocked to see 
How greedy and rude a boy could be. 

Of many fruits he had eaten his fill, 

When he found a new one prettier still, 

So smooth and bright, so glossy and red ; 

“ You mustn’t taste that one,” grandma said ; 

But naughty Benny, so quick and bold. 

Crammed in just all that his mouth would hold. 

Then his face grew red, and his eyelids streamed, 

While he gasped, and choked, and danced, and screamed. 
’Twas a ripe red pepper so strong and hot, 

And oh, what a dreadful dose he got 1 
Poor grandma pitied his pain and fright. 

But the rooster cackled, “It serves him right ! ” 

“ It was after Benny Man got over being sick 
that he came out in the barn-yard with one of 
those cheap watches in his band, and just as he 


36 (Sluacft^ ^wcWb Stor?* 

got near Benny Duck he dropped it, by accident, 
of course. 

“Benny Duck picked it up quicker than you 
could wink your eye, and oif he started, Benny 
Man chasing and screaming, and Benny Duck 
squawking and quacking, and the watch ticking 
its loudest. 



The Two Bennies. 


“ Benny Man wasn’t feeling well, because of 
having eaten the peppers, so he didn’t run very 
far ; but sat down to cry, instead, while Benny 
Duck ran into the tall grass of the meadow, where 
there wasn’t a chance of any one seeing him, and 


'BxkKb Qtov^. 37 

began to eat the watch, for, as I have told you, he 
would try to gobble up anything. 

“ It was quite a while before he could get the 
thing apart, and then he grabbed at what was 
inside just as the spring broke. It was a big piece 
of steel, and spread out suddenly, snapping Benny 
Duck’s head right off of him. 

“We know that must be true, because Mamma 
Speckle found his head in one place, his body in 
another, and the watch-spring between the two.” 

“Was he the only greedy duck you have ever 
known?” your Aunt Amy asked, and Quacky 
Duck said with a laugh : 

“ Indeed he wasn’t ; but I must say he was the 
worst I ever heard about. Now Mrs. Pekin Duck, 
before she was killed, had a terrible appetite. 
She would eat anything that it was possible to get 
into her mouth. But one day she met with an 
accident, or was the victim of a joke, whichever 
way you choose to put it, that should have taught 
her a lesson, although I can’t say it did. 

BENNY MAN’S JOKE. 

It seemed as if Benny Man had a grudge against 
all of us ducks after he lost his watch. I suppose 
he must have spent a good deal of his time study- 


S8 


©uacRi? Ducft’0 Stor?. 


ing how to punish us, because of the mischief 
Benny Duck had done, and he certainly did hit 
upon a great plan. I should have laughed at it 
even if I had been in Mrs. Pekin Duck’s place. 

“ The little scamp found somewhere a caterpillar 
made of rubber, and he tied one end of it to the 
root of a tree near the barn-yard, leaving it in such 
a way that you would certainly have believed it 
was a real live caterpillar. At all events, that is 
what Mrs. Pekin Duck thought, for I was standing 
close by when she got her eye on it. Oh me, oh 
my, how she squawked when she saw the thing, 
and how she ran ! She got hold of one end, and 
started to pull, thinking, I suppose, to carry it 
home where she could eat it at her leisure. 


‘‘ Well, of course 
the thing stretched, 
and she pulled all 
the harder, wonder- 
ing what kind of a 
caterpillar she had 
found. Then, see- 
ing that it was im- 
possible to pull it 



Mrs. Duck Finds a Prize. 


off the root, she 
started to swallow it ; but of course the rubber 


39 


(Sluackij 'BncKe Stor?* 

shrank up when the strain was lessened, and she 
had to take a fresh hold. 

“ I think for fully five minutes she pulled that 
imitation caterpillar out until it wasn’t larger than 
a needle, and then it would drag her back until, 
finally, the string with which it was tied gave 
way, and oh dear, oh dear, I do believe Mrs. Pekin 
Duck turned as many as four summersaults, while 
the caterpillar flew off in the air, nobody knows 
where. If you ever saw a surprised duck, she was 
that one, and not until the next morning would 
the poor old thing so much as speak to us, as if 
she thought we had something to do with it. 

“ I don’t know that she would have shown her- 
self friendly again before she died, if it hadn’t 
been for the fright we all got when the wolf tried 
to catch the lamb.” 

A WISE LAMB. 

“ Is that a story, Quacky Duck ? ” your Aunt 
Amy asked, and she replied quickly : 

“ Oh no, indeed. It is just something that hap- 
pened to us here on the farm last year, and I have 
never got over being surprised that a little no- 
account lamb could have shown so much sense. 


40 


©uach^ 2)ucft'6 Stor^* 

“You must know that the sheep were kept, 
before you came here, in that shed which is next 
the poultry-house, and because it was so far away 
from the stables, Mr. Towser Dog didn’t get around 
there more than two or three times in a night. 
Well, at this time I am telling you about, we had 
all gone to bed with the sun, of course, and it 
seemed to me as if I hadn’t much more than closed 
my eyes in sleep, when I heard old Mrs. Sheep 
scolding one of her lambs because he was trying 
to go out through a hole in the end of the house. 

“ ‘ The wolves will get you, my child, if you 
stray away after sunset,’ she said ; but this lamb, 
although he gave such good proof later of having 
sound common sense, was foolish enough to insist 
that he could take care of himself. 

“Mrs. Sheep scolded and scolded, awakening 
everybody in the neighborhood ; but the lamb got 
away from her, and out he went. Well, as you 
can imagine, old Mr. Wolf came snooping around 
before many minutes had passed, and Mamma 
Speckle got down olf the roost to see what was 
going on, for she must always know about every- 
thing that is being done, else it would break her 
heart. She says that lamb jumped as many as 
twelve feet, straight up on the roof of the sheep- 



Mr. Wolf trying to coax the lamb to come down and take a walk with 
him. Page 41. Quacky Duck, 







41 


iSiuach? Storij* 

fold, and there he stood looking down on Mr. 
Wolf as if it was the most natural thing in the 
world for him to be out by moonlight, talking 
with strange animals. Mr. Wolf stood close by 
the building, his mouth wide open, ready to chew 
the little thing into shoestrings the minute he 
slipped off the roof. 

“Mr. Wolf didn’t dare make very much noise, 
because he knew Mr. Towser was somewhere 
around ; but how he coaxed and coaxed that lamb 
to come down and take a walk with him, and the 
lamb answered him back as if he wished he could. 
The hens screamed, and Mr. Dorking, Mr. Shang- 
hai and Mr. Plymouth Rock shouted themselves 
hoarse, until you would have thought that some- 
thing was eating everybody on the faim. 

“Of course that brought Mr. Towser on the 
jump, and instead of having fresh lamb for supper, 
Mr. Wolf found himself dead before he knew 
what was happening. 

A SmJG FIT. 

“ There was something funny happened on this 
farm the next morning after Mr. Towser killed 
Mr. Wolf, and I have always wondered why Mr. 


42 


©uach? 'BikKq Stor^. 

Crow didn’t write a little poetry about it. Per- 
haps he hasn’t heard of it yet, although that 
doesn’t seem possible, for Mamma Speckle knew 
the facts, and she always tells him everything; 
those two are as thick as peas in a pod.” 

“ What was it, Quacky Duck ? ” your Aunt 
Amy asked, and Quacky opened her mouth wide, 
as if laughing, after which she replied : 

Two or three weeks before young Mr. Lamb 
made such a disturbance, Mr. Man brought home 
what I thought was the most ridiculous looking 
pair of fowls I ever saw — Buff -Cochins, he called 
them. They had feathers way down to the ground, 
and were about as broad as they were tall. The 
airs and graces they put on were something 
wonderful. You would have thought they were 
the only fowls that ever came to this farm, and 
Mr. Man was just silly enough to take every visitor 
over to the yard to show those silly looking things. 

“Well, this Mrs. Buff -Cochin made up her mind 
that the best thing she could do, would be to bring 
out a brood of chickens, and so she began hunting 
around for a nest. Just inside the door of our 
house Mr. Man had put a box and a barrel, for 
the use of any fowl that wanted to raise babies, so 
Mr, Buff-Cochin and his wife paraded back and 


43 


©uacft? WncWs 

forth in front of these, telling everybody what 
they were going to do, and finally the time came 
when they had to makeup their minds as to where 
the nest should be. Mrs. Buif-Cochin was a good 
deal bigger than the box, so of course she couldn’t 
set in that, and she never realized how small, as 
compared with her body, the top of the barrel 
was ; but said to her husband : 

‘‘ ‘ Of course we must hatch our dear little babies 
in the barrel.’ 

“ ‘ Certainly, my 
dear,’ he said. ‘ I 
will help you in. 

“ She was so clum- 
sy that he had to do 
a good deal of help- 
ing, and the feathers 
flew when she settled 
down into the bar- 
rel, squawking and 
screaming until you 
would have thought somebody was killing her. 

“ All of us fowls laughed at the idea of making 
such a fuss about hatching out a brood ; but bless 
you, it was a serious matter, and Mrs. Bulf-Cochin 
had found it out before we did. You know the 



Deciding Upon a Cradle. 


44 


©uacft? WncWe 

top of a barrel is smaller than the middle, and 
although she had room enough so long as she 
remained quiet, once she got down on the straw 
which had been put in the bottom, it was impos- 
sible for her to get out. 

“ Now do you know, that ridiculous old hen was 
in there four days, without anything to eat or 
drink, before Mr. Man knew what had happened, 
and she might have starved to death if some people 
from the next farm hadn’t come to see the wonder- 
ful fowls. There was no hatching done that 
season by the Buff-Cochin family, you may rest 
assured. They acted as if all the rest of us were 
to blame for their misfortunes, ^nd when the cater- 
pillars had their festival, Mrs. Buff-Cochin actually 
refused to go.” 

‘‘ Do the caterpillars have a festival ? ” your 
Aunt Amy asked in surprise. 

“AVell, it’s something of the kind. I don’t 
know what else you could call it,” Quacky Duck 
replied. “ Of course you know they have a ball 
every year before the cocoon-spinning begins.” 


(Siuack? Stor?^ 

THE CATERPILLAES’ BALL. 


45 


This was something so entirely new to your 
Aunt Amy, that she begged Quacky to tell her 
about it without delay, and here is the story she 
told : 

“ Before cocoon-spinning begins all the cater- 
pillars for miles around come together to have a 
kind of picnic, and they end it with a ball. We 
fowls always watch out for such a gathering, for 
it is a great chance to get a Thanksgiving dinner 
of caterpillars without having to work very hard. 

“ It seems that at this picnic, when the dancing 
was just beginning, along comes Mr. Earthworm 
dressed in his very best, and he was going right 
among the dancers when the door-keeper stopped 
him, and said : 

“‘No one but caterpillars are admitted here, 
sir.” 

“ ‘Well, I am a caterpillar,’ Mr. Earthworm said 
as cool as ice, and the door-keeper looked sur- 
prised; but he got his wits together enough to 
ask : 

“ ‘ What kind of a caterpillar do you call your- 
self ? ’ 

“‘I am a bald-headed caterpillar,’ Mr. Earth- 


46 


3>ucft'0 Stor?. 

worm said, and because the door-keeper couldn’t 
make any objections to that, in he went. 



The Door-Keeper is Surprised. 


“Well, they began to dance, and Mr. Earth- 
worm was stepping around as lightly as you please, 
when he struck his tail against a piece of chewing 
gum that one of the little caterpillars had dropped, 
and down he tumbled on the floor. 

“ Of course that wasn’t anything very serious ; 



47 


(Sluacfei2 3)uck'0 

but when he got up he made a mistake as to which 
end he had been dancing on, for you know earth- 
worms are double-headed, and commenced swing- 
ing about upside down. Everybody was fright- 
ened, and oh me, oh my, what a terrible time there 
was for a few minutes i The caterpillars ran this 
way and that way, and then was the time that we 
from the farm got one of the biggest feasts we 
have had for many a year. 

“ Why, I ate so much that it seemed as if I 
could hardly waddle, and Mr. Fox would have had 
me that night sure enough, if Brother Gray Goose 
hadn’t tumbled him into the water. 

WHEN THE FOX GOT A BATH. 

“How did a goose succeed in doing anything 
like that ? ” your Aunt Amy asked. 

“Well, 1 can’t say positively just how it did 
come about ; but you see when the caterpillars got 
so frightened at Mr. Earthworm’s dancing while 
he was upside down, we all rushed in and ate as 
much as we could, without thinking how late it 
was growing, and it must have been half an hour 
after sunset when Mr. Plymouth Eock shouted 
that it was time to go to roosi 


48 


(Siuacf;? 'BncWe Stor?. 

“ He hadn’t any more than got the words out 
of his mouth when Mr. Drake, the one who always 
dressed so fashionably, as I have told you, gave 
us warning that Mr, Fox was coming. Of course 
we ran, and in order to get home, the nearest way 
was to come along the edge of the pond until we 
were at about this spot, when we would be likely 
to meet Mr. Towser Dog; but the trouble was 
that we couldn’t go very fast, and you know how 
well Mr. Fox can run. 

“ He was coming the best he knew how, and I 
suppose his mouth was watering, thinking he 
would have the pick of all the fowls on Mr. Man’s 
farm at last. It was just when I could feel his 
breath on my tail feathers, that Brother Gray 
Goose turned around, flapped his wings straight 
in Mr. Fox’s face, and jumped against him so hard, 
scaring him of course at the same time, that over 
he went backward, into the pond. 

“ That gave us time to get home, and Mr. Frog 
told us next day that Mr. Fox was the sickest 
looking animal he ever saw when he came out of 
the water. 

“ Mr. Frog was sitting on the shore when Mr. 
Fox came out, and of course acted surprised at 
seeing the sly old fellow so wet. 


49 


©uacfe^ Buckle Stor?^ 

‘ I don’t wonder that you hold up your front 
feet,’ Mr. Fox said with a snarl. ‘ Who would 
ever have thought that I should have been so 
knocked about by an old Gray Goose ? ^ 

“ ‘Was that what did it ? ’ Mr. Frog asked in 
astonishment. 



“ ‘Yes, it was,’ Mr. Fox said angrily, ‘and it 
has shown me that I am the biggest goose any- 
where around here. The next time I am out for 
poultry, it will take a good deal more than the 
flap of a pair of wings in my face to scare me out 
of a supper.’ 

“That was a narrow escape for you, Quacky 
Duck,” your Aunt Amy said, and she replied ; 

4 


50 


(Sluack? 2)uck'6 Stor?^ 

“ Yes, I’ve trembled almost every time I have 
thought of it since. We had a more narrow 
escape than the mice did when they held their 
convention, and I thought that was bad enough.” 

MRS. PUSSY CAT’S SLY TRICK. 

‘‘ Did the mice on this farm ever have a conven- 
tion ? ” your Aunt Amy asked in no little sur- 
prise. 

“ Indeed they did, and it would have been a 
fine time if old Mrs. Pussy Cat hadn’t shown her- 
self to be so smart. You see the mice from all 
the farms on this road, met here to see what could 
be done about preventing the cats from eating so 
many of them, and it was decided that they would 
hold meetings in the farm-house pantry. 

The Grief of Mrs. Pussy Cat’s Children. 

‘‘ I never saw so many mice before in my life. 
There were hundreds and hundreds of them, and 
they kept coming all the time. When it seemed 



51 


©uacft^ Stor?* 

as if they must all have arrived, out into the yard 
rushed old Mrs. Pussy Cat’s three kittens, every 
one of them crying and wailing as if their hearts 
were broken. 

“We all supposed 
they had gotten into 
some trouble in the 
house, and so didn’t pay 
any attention to their 
tears, even when they 
kept walking around the 
yard, moaning and howl- 
ing, while the mice were 
gathered in the granary 
waiting until it should 
be time to go to the 
pantry, where they in- 
tended to hold the meet- ^at weeping, 

ing. 

“ After the three kittens had walked round, and 
round, and round without anybody’s speaking to 
them, old Mr. Thomas Cat came out of the yard, 
sat down, and began to cry until the tears made a 
regular puddle in front of him. 

“ Then of course we all wanted to know what 
the matter was^ because we knew that Mrs. Man 



52 


(Sluach? WxkWb Stor^* 

couldn’t have been whipping Mr. Thomas, and 
Mamma Speckle asked him right out : 

“ ‘ What is worrying you so terribly, Mr. 
Thomas ? ’ 

“ ‘ Mrs. Pussy Cat must be dead ! Mrs. Pussy 
Cat must be dead ! ’ he cried, and the three kit- 
tens began dancing around him, all saying the 
same thing. 

“ It seemed surprising to me that Mrs. Pussy 
Cat should have died without our knowing that 
‘ she had even been sick ; but they all felt so badly, 
that you couldn’t help believing it was true, and 
the mice set about having a regular rejoicing. 
They danced, and sang, and told what they would 
do now that Mrs. Pussy Cat was dead. You see 
they wasn’t afraid of Mr. Thomas Cat because he 
didn’t belong in the house, being the stable cat, 
and so wouldn’t have a chance to interfere with 
the meeting. 

“They hadn’t intended to go into the pantry 
until after dark; but just as soon as the news was 
spread that Mrs. Cat was dead, in they started, one 
at a time, or two together, or some old mouse 
dragging her children with her, until it did really 
seem as if the farm-house would be overrun. 

“Mamma Speckle and I stood just as near the 


53 


©uach? 'BncKe Stor?* 

kitchen door as we dared, and wondering whether, 
even if Mrs. Cat was dead, how so many mice 
could get into the house without being seen by 
some of Mr. Man’s family, when out came a pert 
young rat, who had claimed a right to be there on 



the ground that small rats are the same as big 
mice. He came running out of the house with a 
slice of cheese in his paws, shouting : 

‘‘ ‘ See what I got out of the pantry ! See what 
I got out of the pantry ! The old cat must be 
dead as a stone ! ’ 

“ Of course, after that there was no longer any 



64 (Sluachij Stor?^ 

question about Mrs. Pussy Cat’s being dead, for 
if there had been the least little bit of life left in 
her body, Mr. Rat never would have lived to bring 
that cheese away. 

“ It seemed as if 
the mice didn’t pay 
any attention to the 
family on the farm. 
All they had 
thought of was Mrs. 
Pussy Cat. The 
kittens and Mr. 
Thomas hadn’t 
seemed to worry 
them a bit. They trooped in until I should have 
thought the pantry would have been regularly 
packed with them, and I am told that in there 
they saw Mrs. Pussy Cat sitting on the shelf, look- 
ing as if she was asleep ; but they were certain 
of her being dead, because never before had they 
been able to run anywhere near where she w^as 
taking a nap, without arousing her. 

“Well, the mice gathered until nobody knows 
how many there were, climbing all around, and 
some of them even standing on their hind legs to 
look at Mrs. Cat. 


Young Mr. Rat. 



Mrs. Cat appeared to be asleep as the mice played around her. Page 54. 

Qmcky Duck* 





55 


©uack? 3)uch'0 Stor?* 

“ I don’t know how long they capered around 
there, with old Mrs. Cat acting as if she hadn’t 
any life in her, although I am told she wasn’t 
stretched out as a dead animal should be, and then 
suddenly the members of the convention found 
that she was very much alive. She made one 
spring and landed near the door, and then she had 
them penned in, for there was no other way to get 
out of the pantry. 

“Dear me, dear me, how the mice were killed 
that night ! I saw with my own eyes Mrs. Man 
and one of the maids sweep the bodies out of the 
house as if they had been so many flies, and those 
who were left alive must have come to believe the 
same as did little Mr. Spring Rooster, that it isn’t 
safe to go very much where there is a chance of 
getting into trouble. 

THE UNFORTUNATE ROOSTER. 

“Is that another story?” your Aunt Amy 
asked, and Quacky replied : 

“ Yes, I suppose you might call it that, although 
it’s nothing more than the telling of how a foolish 
spring chicken was killed by his brother. They 
were both young roosters of Mamma Speckle’s 


56 


©uach? 'BixcKe Stor?* 

hatching, and had just come to that age where 
they wanted to meddle with things which didn’t 
concern them, simply for the sake of finding out 
what might happen. Now, just outside the yard, 
near the shed, was a chopping-block, and on it an 
axe. 

“ These two foolish chickens walked over there, 
saw some blood and feathers near-by, and one of 
them began to cry, as he said : 

“ ‘ Look, Cocky, here is where some of our 
family have been killed, and most likely that is 
the very axe which was used in the murder ! ’ 

“Now Cocky was one of those chickens who 
never could be satisfied with letting well enough 
alone, and he always wanted to make sport of 
somebody. So when his brother began to cry, he 
jumped up on the block, put one foot on the axe- 
handle, and said : 

“ ‘ I want you to understand, Chicky, that 1 
ain’t afraid to be around where some of my family 
have been killed. Mr. Man can’t catch me and 
chop my head off, and I am going to tell him so ! ’ 

“ Then Cocky began to crow, and the more noise 
he made the bolder he got, until he danced all 
over the block, while his brother was still looking 
at the blood and feathers, and before either of 


57 


(Sluach? Buckle Stor?^ 

them knew what had happened, Cocky knocked 
the axe down in such a way that the sharp edge 
of it came right across Chicky’s neck, cutting his 
head clean off. 

“ Now, as I said before, that isn’t any story ; but 
it goes to show that 
there is no good 
reason for making a 
fool of yourself in a 
place of danger, and 
that it isn’t sensible 
to try to make out 
that you ain’t afraid 
of what you know 
can do you a great 
deal of harm. I 
never saw anything 
of the kind turn out well, except once, and that 
was when Mr. Man’s eldest boy came home from 
college last summer. 

SURPKISING THE BULL. 

“Sam was the boy’s name, and I often think 
that Tommy will grow up a good deal like him. 
When he came home from college you would have 



58 


©uacki? Duck'6 Stor?^ 

thought he never saw a farm before. He wouldn’t 
have milked one of the cows if he had died of 
thirst, and he strutted around the place bare- 
headed, wearing a red sweater. He couldn’t do 
any work, oh no, he had got too far along for that ! 
So he used to walk a good deal, taking exercise, 
as he called it, till one day old Mr. Nero, the bull, 
saw him, and thought it was about time for him 
to take some exercise too. 

“That red sweater just about set him crazy. 
He put his head down, swung his tail over his 
back in the shape of a letter S, and started for 
Mr. Sam and the sweater. 

“ I happened to be where I could see all that 
was going on, and my heart was right in my 
mouth, for I expected that boy would be torn to 
pieces ; but what do you suppose he did ? Instead 
of running away from Mr. Nero, same as everybody 
else does, he braced himself on his hands, with 
his knees bent, his head down, and the greatest 
amount of hair you ever saw, falling over his face 
for all the world like one of Mrs. Man’s mops. I 
couldn’t make out what he was doing. 

“ Mr. Nero was puzzled almost as much as I 
was, for he came down at full speed until he got 
close to Mr^ Sam, and then he stopped short, 


(Siuacft? Ducf ?'0 Storij. 59 

pawing the ground as he asked in the greatest sur- 
prise : 

“ ‘ What in the name of goodness are you ? ’ 

“ And Sam said, still keeping his head down as 
if he was going to butt Mr. Nero right off the 
earth : 

‘‘ ‘ I am the cen- 
ter rush on the col- 
lege foot-ball team, 
and you came near 
getting five yards 
for offside play. 

Come on ! What 
are you waiting 
for?’ 

‘‘ Mr. Nero look- 
ed at Mr. Sam and 
his red sweater for 
a moment, and sigh- 
ed as he said : 

“ ‘ I couldn’t think of having any trouble with 
you, never mind what colors you are wearing.’ 

“ ‘ Why ? ’ Mr. Sam asked, as he shook the hair 
back out of his eyes. ‘ Are you afraid ? ’ 

“ ‘ Not at all,’ Mr. Nero said, as he turned 
slowly around ; ‘but I never could have it in my 



6o 


©uach? 2)uch'0 Qtov^. 

heart to hurt a calf,’ and off he walked, leaving 
Mr. Sam feeling just about as foolish as my sister 
did when Mr. Rooster robbed her. 


A DISHONEST ROOSTER. 

‘‘Tell me about it,” your Aunt Amy said, 
knowing full well that Quacky Duck had a new 
story in mind. 

“ It happened before I was born ; but I have 
heard it so many times that it seems almost as if 
I had been there,” Quacky Duck said after a short 
pause. “You see my sister once found a very 
beautiful ring in the straw, and old Mrs. Gray 
Goose, who knew her well, says that she grew to 
be so proud of it as to make all the rest of the 
fowls in the yard very tired, although I can’t 
think that is just true. I suppose of course she 
might have talked a good deal about it, as would 
be only natural, and perhaps it did get wearisome 
to the others. Finally she said to Mrs. Gray 
Goose : 

“ ‘ I have had enough of this low kind of 
company, and from this out I intend to move in 
better society. I shall pick ray friends from 


(Sluack^ Duel’s Stor^. 6i 

among the very best blooded chickens in the 
country.’ 

“ Then the poor, foolish duck, and I call her so 
even though she was my sister, flew over into the 
chicken-yard, with the ring in her bill, and the 
finest looking rooster there, seeing the glittering 
gold, came up to her in the most friendly way, 
asking to look at the ornament; but she held it 
tightly, until he flattered her by saying : 

“ ‘ You can have no idea how glad we are to 
have you come over, for you are much too fine a 
bird to live in the other yard. So that is the ring 
you found ? A very beautiful one, isn’t it ? I 
hope you intend to stay here with us, instead of 
going back where there are nothing but geese, 
turkeys and ducks.’ 

“ My sister was pulfed way up when Mr. Eooster 
said this, according to the way Mrs. Gray Goose 
tells the story, and opened her mouth to tell him 
just why she had come, when, of course, the ring 
fell out, which, as I think of it now, must have 
been just what Mr. Rooster wanted, for he picked 
it up, and ran off as fast as his legs could carry 
him. 

“ It was no use for my sister to chase him, for 
that duck was never born who could run as fast 


62 


(Sluacft^ Stor?^ 

as a rooster ; but she went back into the barn-yard, 
believing, as did the butterflies, that the very 



wisest thing for any person to do, is to stay with 
their kind, and not struggle to get into what some 
may think is good society. 

THE FOOLISH BUTTERFLIES. 

“ Did the butterflies ever try to go into good 
society?” your Aunt Amy asked, and Quacky 
said with what was very like a smile : 

“ Yes, and when you look at it in one way, they 


63 


®uacft? Storij* 

did get into society, a good deal deeper than 
they expected. 

‘‘ It happened right here on this farm, so I 
know all about it. One day last summer, I think 
it was, Mamma Speckle and I saw the most beau- 
tiful pair of butterflies that ever were born, come 
up from the edge of the pond. One was white as 
snow, with tiny spots of gold on her wings, and 
the other, a big black fellow, had a band of silver 
on both sides of him. I thought I had seen hand- 
some butterflies ; but never anything to compare 
with them, and every fowl on the place was talk- 
ing about the pretty creatures, hoping they might 
come down into the barn-yard where we could 
have a better chance to see them. 

“ But no, they were a good deal like my sister, 
and had made up their minds that they were far 
too elegant to associate with common butterflies. 
Nothing would do but that they must get into 
the company of the swallows, and so over toward 
the house the two beauties vrent. Now you know 
that we have plenty of swallows on this farm, and 
in the cherry tree you can see more than any- 
where else. There the butterflies went, and found 
Mrs. Swallow taking care of a nest of babies, so 
they stopped to ask her about the neighborhood, 


64 


(Siuacft^ mxcKe 

and such questions as that, until she found out 
just what they wanted. 

“ ‘ Don’t you think you had better stay with 
the other butterflies ? ’ she asked. ‘ It mightn’t be 
altogether safe to live here where are so many 
birds.’ 

“ No, the butterflies wouldn’t have anything 
like that, and even began to talk of building a 
nest, when down came Mr. Swallow and five or 
six of his friends, full speed, having got a glimpse 
of the beautiful strangers. 

“ Mr. Swallow didn’t wait to ask why the but- 
terflies had come there ; he had an idea that 
because of their beauty they might taste unusually 
good, and at them he went, with his mouth wide 
open. 

“ Now do you know those foolish butterflies 
never mistrusted what he was about until they 
found themselves in the bird’s mouth. Then they 
were in good society, and considerably deeper, 
I venture to say, than was agreeable. My belief 
is, that if you do what you know to be right, and 
try to help those around you, you will get into 
just as good society as you deserve,” Quacky Duck 
said sagely. “ In this world a great deal depends 
upon how we behave. 



The swallows looking for their dinner. Page 64. 

Quacky Duck. 







©uacliij Duck's Stocij. 


65 


THE FOOLISH PEACOCK 

“ And there’s another thing I have noticed,” 
Quacky said, as if she had had great experience in 
the world. “ Those who try to help themselves, 
are helped more often by others. Now here is a 
story that Mrs. Gray Goose tells, and it seems to 
me as if it bears out what I have just said. 

“ There was once 
a young Peacock, 
who went out visit- 
ing and saw some 
fine birds spread- 
ing their tails, and 
strutting around in 
the sunshine. He 
wasn’t old enough 
to have such fine 
feathers ; but never 
stopped to think of 
that. Home he ran 
to his mother, and 
said with tears in 
his eyes : 

“ ‘ It’s good-bye now, for I am going up to the 

S 



The Envy of Young Mr. Peacock. 


66 


©iiacfii? 'BwcKb Qtov^. 

house to tell the cook he had better chop my head 
off, and put me in the pot to boil.’ 

“ ‘ Now what do you mean by such foolishness 
as that ? ’ Mrs. Peacock asked angrily, and he said 
mournfully : 

“ ‘ I went over to the other farm this morning, 
and there I saw peacocks with great tails like 
fans. They spread them open in the sun, and the 
eyes on the feathers glistened beautifully. I tried 
to spread my tail ; but found I hadn’t any. I 
don’t look any better than you do.’ 

“ Dear me, but Mrs. Peacock was angry when 
her son said that. 

“ ‘ You don’t look any better than I ? ’ she cried. 
‘Well, how much better do you want to look ? ’ 

“ ‘ I want to look like the birds I saw, and have 
a great tail like theirs,’ young Mr. Peacock sobbed. 
‘ I am ashamed of myself, and now I am going to 
tell the cook to kill me.’ 

“ Mrs. Peacock didn’t spend any time with that 
foolish young bird ; but boxed his ears soundly, 
after which she said to him : 

“ ‘ You begin scratching for worms, that is your 
business in this world, and the tail will take care 
of itself.’ 

“Well, young Mr. Peacock didn’t dare do any- 

a 


67 


(Sluacft? Stor?* 

thing else but what his mother told him, and after 
a while he got so interested in worms that he for- 
got all about tails, and never thought of them 
again for as much as a year, when he went over to 
the next farm once more. Then, just as soon as 
he showed himself, all the other peacocks cried : 

u i a beauty ! What a beauty ! Here 

comes the handsomest tail that was ever seen ! ’ 
“You must understand that while he was at- 
tending to his business, the tail had kept right on 
growing, and it shows, as I look as it, that if you 
leave off wishing for what other people have got, 
and look strictly to your own affairs, the chances 
are that you will get exactly what you want, or, 
at least, come a good deal nearer it than if you 
spent your time worrying about what can’t be 
mended.” 

“Very true,” your Aunt Amy said, and just at 
that moment Sonny Bunny Rabbit ran across the 
path as if in a desperate hurry. 

“ There he goes again ! ” Quacky Duck cried, 
stretching her neck out that she might the more 
plainly see in which direction he went. 


68 


©uacft? 'BncKe Stor?. 


WHEN SONNY BUNNY WALKED IN THE 
MOONLIGHT. 

“ Why do you say ‘ again ’ ? ” your Aunt Amy 
asked. “ Does he often come this way ? ” 

‘‘ He has been around here a good deal lately,” 
Quacky said, stepping here and there as if to see 
more plainly, “and I know very well why he 
comes.” 

“ It is Sonny Bunny Babbit, isn’t it ? ” your 
Aunt Amy asked. 

“ Yes indeed ; old Bunny Babbit’s child, and if 
his mother knew where he was spending his time, 
it’s my opinion there would be trouble.” 

“ He isn’t doing anything wrong, is he ? ” your 
Aunt Amy asked. 

“ No,” Quacky Duck said hesitatingly. “ Of 
course it isn’t wrong ; but the way I look at it, 
he’s spending altogether too much of his time with 
that foolish Miss Babbit who lives near the swamp. 
Every afternoon at about this hour, he flies across 
here as though he hadn’t a minute to spare, and 
then, if you watch out, you’ll see him parading up 
and down around the pond, as I did the other 
night. What do you suppose ? The moon was 
just coming out when I looked through the duck- 


69 


©uach? 2)ucft'6 Stor^^ 


house window, and saw that same Sonny Bunny 
holding little Miss Rabbit’s paws, the pair of them 
walking down the path as if they were the only 
two rabbits in all this world.” 


“ One could think 
from the way you 
speak, Quacky Duck,” 
your Aunt Amy said, 
“that yon were pro- 
voked because Sonny 
Bunny walked in the 
moonlight with Miss 



Rabbit.” 


“ It don’t concern 
me,” and Quacky spoke 
quite sharply. “ Only 
of course I want to 
know what is going on 


Sunny Bunny Out for a Walk. 


around the farm, and I do think that if those two 
foolish rabbits must walk together every afternoon 
of their lives, the best thing they could do would 
be to keep out of sight. Now — ” 

Just at this moment young Mr. Drake came sail- 
ing slowly up the pond, quacking in a most plain- 
tive tone, as if calling some one, when straightway 
Quacky looked confused. 


70 


©uacfti? lS>i\cWe Stor?* 


“ I guess I had better be going now,” she said 
hurriedly. “I have kept you too long already, 
and you must be tired.” 



Mr. Drake and Quacky Duck Out for a Sail. 


Then, without waiting for a reply, she hastened 
down to the pond, and your Aunt Amy, walking 
slowly back to her home, could not but smile as 
she thought of how angry the duck had been be- 
cause Sonny Bunny and Miss Rabbit walked out 
together, when, were any one to pass that way 
just then, he could have seen Quacky and young 
Mr. Drake swimming away together in the most 
affectionate manner possible. 


THE END. 


Hunt Hmy’s Hnimal Stories 


CROAKY FROG’S STORY 

By AMY PRENTICE 

With twenty-eight illustrations and a frontis- 
piece in colors by J. Watson Davis. Hand- 
some Cloth binding. Price, 50 cents. 

A List of Croaky Frog’s Stories 

Mr. Croaky Frog introduces himself— 

When Mr. Frog tried to be king — The Stork 
who was looking for an office — When Mother 
Goose made a mistake — When Mr. Ox was 
nervous — When Mr. Frog and Mr. Mouse 
fought — Funny Mr. Frog — A Fashionable 
Family — The dispute between Mrs. Frog and 
Mrs. Mouse — Why Storks build their nests 
in high places — When Professor Stork kept 
school — When the Wasps had a feast — When 
Willie Man was frightened — When the Frog 
taught Mr. Deer good manners — When Mr. 

Frog led the orchestra — When Mr. Eel went 
shopping — When the mosquito lost himself — 

When Mr. Wild Hog taught Mr. Fox — Miss 
Goggle Eyes has a new song — When the mice wanted to sing. 



The Gray Goose’s Story 


By AMY PRENTICE 

With thirty-two illustrations and a frontispiece in colors by J. Watson Davis. Hand- 
some Cloth binding. Price, 50 cents. 



A List of The Gray Goose Stories 


Mrs. Gray Goose is angry— Mrs. Wild Goose’s visit — An angry pair — Teddy and 
the calf— Teddy’s dog — When Sammy teased the calf— Where Mr. Crow hid his ap- 
ples — The tragedy in the frog family — Searching for the impossible — A suspicious 
looking visitor — When Mr. Rooster was suspicious — When Mrs. Monkey was dissat- 
isfied — How Bunny Rabbit fooled the stork — When Mrs. Pea-Hen abandoned the 
orphans — Alice questions Mr. Turtle — The lazy Mr. Horse — When the geese claimed 
to be cranes— When Mr. Pig didn’t go to market — The disobedient rat — The true 
story of the golden eggs — The race between Mr. Fido and Mr. Shanghai — When 
Mrs. Goose’s baby wasn’t welcome. 


For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the publishers, 
A. L. BURT COMPANY, 53-58 Duane Street, New York. 



Hunt Hmy'a Hnim al Storits 

Plodding Turtle’s Story 

By AMY PRENTICE 

With thirty illustrations and a frontispiece in colors by J. Watson Davis. Haadsoasc 
Cloth binding. Price, 50 cents. 

A List of 
Plodding Turtle’s 
Stories 

When Mr. Turtle saw 
the world — W h y the 
giraffes have long necks 
— How the butterflies 
frightened Mr. B u g — 

When Monkey went to 
sea-An odd life-saving 
crew — The jumping 
grassh opper— T h e 
greedy fish — When Mr. 

Crane thought he was a 
stork — A pink tea in the 
j u n g I e — The discon- 
tented lion — The clown’s 
lesson — How Mrs. Crow 
strangled herself — 

Hunting for oil — The pig who was proud of himself— When Mr. Ape was a tailor — 
When the snake tried to charm the crab— A picnic party — When little bruin went 
honey-hunting — When the crow tried to swim — The animals who found fault with 
themselves — How the rocky mountain sheep got his big horns — The pigs who waited 
for the buttermilk. 


The Brown Owl’s Story 

By AMY PRENTICE 

With thirty-one illustrations and 
a frontispiece in colors by J. 

Watson Davis. Handsome Cloth 
binding. Price, 50 cents. 

A List of The Brown 
Owl’s Stories 

The Brown Owl introduces him- 
self-Whenthe BrownOwl'scousin 
was a policeman — When Mr. 

Owl robbed the donkey — When 
the Brown Owl was sad — Mama 
Speckle s mistake — When Billy 
ran away — When Sammy was 
cross — When the monkey sang 
with the fox — When Mrs. Mole 
bought a new coat — How the cat 
learned to sing— How the pigeon fooled the hawk — The pet mosquito— A troublesome 
lover— After Johnny had been to the circus— How King Kite lost his crown— 1 he 
caterpillar’s love— A new department store— Mr. Brown Owl’s sad experience— When 
Mr. Stork and Mr. Magpie were partners— How Tommy was frightened into doing 
his duty— Life on a farm— When Mr. Rat fooled Squire Owl— How Mr. Fox was out- 
witted — Old Mrs. Brown Owl is disturbed — A funny bird. 




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Hunt Hmy’s Hnimat StorUs 

niCKIE nONKEV’S STORY 


By AMY PRENTICE 


With thirty-five illustrations and a frontis- 
piece in colors by J. Watson Davis. Hand- 
some Cloth binding. Price, 50 cents. 

A List el Mickie Monkey’s Stories 

A sad accident — When Mickie Monkey 
left home — Mickie’s sisters — When Mr. Lion 
was frightened — Mr. Crow makes trouble — 
When Mr. Owl won the badge — When Mr. 
Lion lost his dinner — What Mickie Monkey 
wrote — The famous race — When Mr. Lion 
lost his wits — When Billy Man neglected his 
work — What happened through Billy’s care- 
lessness — When Mr. Fido turned cook — A 
lazy monkey — Mr. Fido as a politician — Mr. 
Fox gets fooled — When Mr. Ape was a tailor 
— An obstinate pig — When Mr. Mouse made 
a mistake — Mr. Monkey’s cousin escapes — 
When Mr. Horse got the best of Mr. Lion— 
When Mr. Pig fooled the shop-keeper. 



BILLY GOAT’S STORY 


By AMY PRENTICE 

With thirty-two illustrations and a frontispiece in colors by J. Watson Davis. Hand- 
some Cloth binding. Price, 50 cents. 



A List of Billy Goat’s 5tories 


Mr. Billy Goat meets Aunt Amy — When Mr. Goat turned studious — An ambitious 
goat — A brave goat — When Mr. Donkey wanted an education — Mr. Trout makes a 
mistake — How Mr. Ram stole the acorns — A very busy mother — When Mr. Turtle 
raced with Mr. Frog — When Mr. Elephant tried to be a man — When Mr. Wolf was 
ungrateful — How Mr. Beetle was fooled — When Mr. Snake’s teeth were dull — When 
Mr. Wild Hog made a mistake — Mr. Calf wants to be the master — More of Mr. Crow’s 
poetry — Foolish Mr. Quail — Mr. Towser’s misfortunes — When Mr. Goat fooled Mr. 
Wolf — Driven from home — When John learned something — When Mr. Donkey went 
on a strike — When Mrs. Cat got discouraged — When Mr. Monkey tried to borrow 
money — When Mr. Robin’s throat was sore. 


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Hunt Hmy's Hnimal Stories 
FRISKY SQUIRREL’S 5T0RY 


Handsome 



By AMY PRENTICE 

With thirty illustrations and a frontispiece in colors by J. Watson Davis. 

Cloth binding. Price, 50 cents. 

A List of Frisky Squir- 
rel’s Stories 

LooVing for a new home— The 
squirrel's arithmetic — Medicine 
for a lazy squirrel — The foolish 
butterfly — Sonny Bunny’s snow- 
shoes-When grandmother fooled 
the hawks — When the rabbits 
lost their coats — Mr. Hawk 
catches Mr. Robin Red-Breast — 

Mrs. Hippopotamus has the 
toothache — Disputing about the 
hat— Mr. Bear and the bees — 

When Sonny Bunny learned to 
dance — How Mr. Penguin got a 
uniform — The rabbit’s victim — 

Funny Mr. Drake — The mos- 
quito’s partner — An odd boarding 
house — Mr. Rooster gets into 
trouble — The rash little darky — 

When Mr. Lion tried to look like 
a king — Mr. Jackass thought 
himself a bird — When the bats 
tried to swim — The industrious 

kitten — Sonny Bunny fools Mr. Fox — How Mi. Blackbird lost his life. 

THE SPECKLED HEN’S STORY 

By AMY PRENTICE 

With twenty-eight illustrations and a frontispiece in colors by J. Watson Davis. 
Handsome Cloth binding. Price, 50 cents. 

A Lift Of tbe 
Speckled Hen’s 
Stories 

The richest hen in the 
flock — A very stylish 
biddy — Hatching Easter 
eggs — A very happy 
r o o s t e r — When Mr. 

Weasel arrived — When 
the egg rolled out — Mr. 

Shanghai’s sad fate — A 
foolish rooster — How the 
rooster gained know- 
ledge — The deceit of n 
hen — Meddlesome Mrs. 

Biddy — Mr. Turkey’s 
fears — Mr. Leghorn and 
the cat — When Tommy 
climbed a tree — T h e 
Speckled Hen and the 4 
wild cat — Mama Speckle ~ 
saves a life — Mr. Bug’s 
vacation — The rooster’s 
convention — T h e am- 
bitious cat — The thin turkey— Mama Speckle’s visitor. 



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Hunt Hmy'a Hntmal Stories 

BUNNY RABBIT’S STORY 

By AMY PRENTICE 

With thirty illustrations and a frontispiece in colors by J. Watson Davis. Handsome 
Cloth binding. Price, 50 cents. 

A List of Bunny Rabbit’s Stories 

Where Mr. Bunny Rabbit lived — Bunny 
goes to the Circus — How Mr. Fox cheated 
Bunny Rabbit — Mr. Turtle at the Circus 
— The Elephant’s joke — Bunny Rabbit 
hunts for elephants — The escape from the 
circus — When the chicken was sick — Mr. 

Fox's pitiful story — Mr. Turtle’s great 
scheme — When Mr. Goose and Mr. Frog 
wore clothes — Mr. Frog's love story — The 
Lamb goes hunting for Mary — Mr. Turtle 
makes a mistake — The sad fate of Mr. 

Coon — Mrs. Brahma’s queer family — The 
Frog’s boast — Tommy Man goes hunting 
— Mr. Owl at dinner — How Mr. Ape whip- 
ped Mr. Leopard — The trap Mr. Man set — How Mr. Turtle won the race — A 
letter for Bunny Rabbit. 



TOWSER DOQ’S STORY 


By AMY PRENTICE 

With thirty-two illustrations and a frontispiece in colors by J. Watson Davis. Hand- 
some Cloth binding. Price, 50 cents. 



A List ot Towser Dog’s Stories 


Mr. Towser dog meets Aunt Amy — The Tramp dog’s visit — When little Poodle was 
tempted — When Mr. Spot was abused — When Mr. Crow stole a bone — When the 
Wolves fell in love — Mr. Towser dog’s dream- When Mamma Speckle lost an egg — How 
Mr. Spot was punished for being greedy — What the dog really did in the manger — 
When Mr. Rover ran away — A very foolish dog — When Mrs. Sheep gave Mr, Wolf a 
dinner — When Mr. Rover made a mistake — Old Grandfather Luck — When Dandy ne- 
glected his duty — When Mr. Fido lost Mr. Man’s dinner — A very wise dog — Mr. 
Screw learns how much the wagon weighs — When the Wolf wanted a partner — When 
Tommy Man was punished — The inquisitive cat — A lesson on gluttony and meddling. 


For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the publishers, 
A. L. BURT QOMPANY, 52*58 Duane 3 tre.t, New Yprl?. 


Hunt Mmy’s Hnimal Stories 

Mouser CAT’S Story 

By AMY PRENTICE 

With thirty-five illustrations and a frontispiece in colors by J. Watson Davis. Hand- 
some Cloth binding. Price, 50 cents. 

A List of Mouser Cat’s 
Stories 

Mrs. Mouser Cat calls on Aunt Amy 
— Why cats catch mice — A kitty 
which the snow brought — When Mr. 

Fox was foolish — A wet weather 
party — Mr. Thomas Cat’s narrow 
escape — Mr. Crow’s fancy — A ques- 
tion of beauty — When Mr. Elephant 
and Mr. Bee had a quarrel — When 
Tommy got the best of Mr. Bear — 

Mr. Donkey’s lesson in good man- 
ners — When Mr. Crocodile had his 
teeth extracted — The dissatisfied 
cat — Mr. Crow’s deceit — When 
young Thomas Cat painted a canary 
— When Mr. Fox was too cunning 
— When Sonny Bunny Rabbit was 
rash — Mr. Fox and Miss Crab — The baby elephant — The story^of squeaky mouse — 
A saucy mouse — Fatal sport — A cat’s dream — Blood relations. 



Quacky Duck’s Story 

By AMY PRENTICE 

With thirty-four illustrations and a frontispiece in colors by J, Watson Davis. 

Handsome Cloth binding. Price, 50 cents. 

A List of Quacky 
Duck’s Stories 

Mrs. Quacky Duck makes 
herself known — The end of 
Mr. Drake — When little 
Ducky was very young-— 

The grasshopper’s bad habit 
— Mr Fox’s experiment — A 
silly mother — A great travel- 
er — The chipmunk who be- 
came a sailor — Strangers — 

When Mrs. Mouse enter- 
tained Mr. Cat — Little Nico- 
demus Brown — Mr. Crane 
pays off old scores — Greedy 
Ben — Benny Man’s joke — A 
wise lamb — A snug fit — The 
caterpillar’s ball — When the 
fox got a bath— Mrs. Pussy Cat’s ily trick— The unfortunate rooster— Surprising the 
bull— A dishonest rooster— The foolish butterflies — The foolish peacock — When 
Sonny Bunny walked in the moonlight. 


For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the publisheis 

A. L. HURT COMPANY, 52-58 Duane Street, New York, * 


























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